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Like the last memory, it all came to him in a dream. A long, vivid dream.
It started in San Fransico. After the bar, the drugs, and the first interview. He can see Louis fighting with someone and yelling at someone, and it isn’t him anymore. He’s in pain. A lot of pain. Oh, he’s dying. Daniel was dying.
Louis is screaming, crying, begging for help. From who? Armand. It’s Armand. Armand is standing at the open window, and he is not happy. He’s yelling back, chastising Louis for crying, and frantically pointing at Armand. Kill him or save him. Choose! The words are disconnected from what Daniel is seeing like he can’t comprehend that Armand is speaking, but he can still hear what he’s saying.
Louis is saying something, but Daniel can’t hear him anymore. His vision is fading. This was it. He was going to die.
But then, he lived.
Daniel woke up in a single bed, hanging over the mattress like he had been dropped on top, and when he sat up, his head began to spin. He looks around and he’s still there. Armand is sitting in the old chair that Louis had rested in. His feet are on the rickety table, crossing at the ankle, as he leans backwards on two legs. He rocks himself back and forth slowly, the movement making Daniel feel sick, and stares at the opposite wall.
“Are you alive?” Armand asks. He’s still not looking at him. He’s still looking at the wall. His eyes are somehow burning and empty at the same time. His eyes are different from before though. They had been a soft, warm brown that pulled people in, but now they were red – no, orange. Glowing brightly.
They were deadly, cold, and intimidating. They were beautiful.
“Yeah,” Daniel said. His voice is rough, and he can’t speak louder than a whisper. He touches his throat, runs his fingers down the sensitive skin, and clears his throat. He tries to speak again, but Armand stops him.
“Don’t bother,” He said. Still staring at the wall. “Louis was quite rough with you. The blood is healing you, but it will still take time,” He explains calmly like they were talking about something as simple as the weather.
“The blood?”
Armand’s eyes lock on Daniel. He glares deeply and Daniel feels his gaze burn into him, and he wants to look away, but he can’t. He’s trapped. He’s captivated. He’s…lost.
“My blood,” Armand said. He drops his chair back onto the ground and places his feet on the ground. He stands slowly. He’s tall, towering over Daniel, and when he stands over Daniel’s body, a thick black shadow covers him. “I gave you my blood because you were stupid enough to piss off an apex predator,”
Daniel should look away. He should submit. He should make himself as inoffensive as possible. Instead, he holds his gaze. He glares back. He wants to bare his teeth.
Armand tilts his head to the side, his face a blank mask, before reaching his hand up and grasping Daniel’s chin tightly. He leans down, close to Daniel’s face, their eyes boring into one another, their noses brushing the other cheek, their lips close enough to touch.
“Get out. Take your tapes with you,” Armand whispers against his lips. His eyes narrow before he throws Daniel’s face aside, tossing his chin away with ease as he stands again.
“That’s it?” Daniel asked. “That’s all? You just want me to leave. Even with the tapes?”
Armand did not speak. He crosses the room and returns to his seat. He picks up one of the tapes and turns it around in his hands. For a second, Daniel worries he will unfurl the tape, perhaps tear it to pieces. But no, Armand simple stares.
“No one will believe it. No one will believe you,” Armand said. He places the tape back onto the table, setting it down gently, carefully.
Daniel sighs with relief. He would need all the tapes to write the story.
Armand laughs. It is gentle. Musical and warming.
“You are an innocent fool,” Armand said, shaking his head with the kind of condescending smile that would usually make Daniel’s blood burn. But to see that smile, to be the cause of it, maybe something in Daniel’s stomach flutter, filling him with warmth. “I see why he chose you as his confidant. You are naïve and beautiful, but that beauty could be the only reason, you know,”
Daniel blushes. It felt wrong to be called beautiful by such a man – such a creature. He forces a glare and croaks out his response.
“I can make people believe it,” He said. “I’ll write it all, and I’ll get it published, and they’ll believe me. Everyone will believe me! That’s why Louis chose me,”
Armand hums and looks back at Daniel. His eyes were soft. Enticing.
“You are strangely defiant and beseeching in the same breath,” Armand allowed another smile. “I find it rather interesting,” Armand stood again. He swings his arms back and forth, rocks on his heels, and lets his arms hit against his arms as he stares down at Daniel. “I am going to let you leave here,” He announced.
“Really?” Daniel asked with a frown. There was no way. He had no reason to let him leave, to watch as he walked away with every secret they had. “Why?”
“I want to follow you,” Armand said. “Watch you, see where you go. As long as I find you interesting, I won’t kill you,”
A shiver ran down Daniel’s spine.
Armand was not like Louis. He was a killer. He could do so without mercy. In fact, he would rather. If Lestat was a monster, then Armand was the Devil, waiting and hoping to punish and hurt whatever came into his orbit. Daniel’s hand began to shake.
“Why?”
“I want to see what you do. I want to know what you are.” And with those words, the game begins.